


Rhapsody in blue

by annalouise_vintage



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Elizabeth MacMillan - Freeform, F/F, I still do not know where this is going, Mac - Freeform, Post S3, kind of, self discovery, she deserves a happy ending, we will see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-01-04 17:38:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18348488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annalouise_vintage/pseuds/annalouise_vintage
Summary: Not only Phryne needed some time off after the events of the last months. Elizabeth Macmillan -still not completely over the loss of her yes what was it even? Girlfriend? Lover? Affair?- inspired by Phryne decided to cut back her work to only her personal studies and move to Sydney for a certain amount of time.Now she decided that said amount of time was over and she ready to get back into whatever mess of a life was waiting for her, thank you very much.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> The title is inspired by George Gershwin's amazing piece "Rhapsody in Blue" which I was listening to a lot while writing the first chapter. Also it always reminds me of Mac, I am not sure how but once I find out I will tell you <3

The sound of china cluttering, young women gossiping and the smell of freshly baked pastries and coffee merged into a comfortable background atmosphere as Elizabeth Macmillan, clad in her favorite dark green ensemble, opened a letter equipped with a very familiar signature.

_Mac,_  
The Jakatan sun is burning down onto me as I am writing these lines.   
After a bit of a turbulence around Singapore things have been going quite smooth so far, I hope it’s the same for you back home.  
The have the best fruits you have ever seen in your life; the governor is very obliging and makes sure to send me bits of their harvests every now and then.   
… 

When reaching page two of the letter she only skimmed through the pages, it was about time by now for Phryne to come back. Though Mac could understand the importance of not writing down every single dirty detail -and by god there must be dirty details- in the letters, Phryne’s mail became less and less interesting with every incoming letter.  
During Phryne Fisher’s journey abroad their correspondence had become less regular though never stopped -thank god- because no matter how committed Mac was to her laid-back manner, she was often worrying more about her best friend than she would ever dare to admit.

_…_  
Kisses,  
Phryne 

 

In three weeks the two of them would finally meet again in Melbourne and by this time Mac could hardly wait any longer. In the past month her life had changed a lot.   
From an outside view the only changes were that she had cut down her work to only her personal research and moved to Sydney for - back then- an uncertain amount of time, which was now over.  
But on the inside there were so many changes, gosh, she finally after all this time, truly felt like herself again.

It had taken her long to admit to herself the need for a change, after months -or years?- of telling the opposite.

She had always been proud to be a hard working woman but at some point in her life work had became her second identity. It is easy to loose yourself in work, easy because since you’re doing something important nobody cares and easy, because it keeps you in a weird king of comfort zone.   
Equally easy it is to tell yourself that as long as you’re functioning perfectly fine, you are perfectly fine. Because more often than not, you are not.

Elizabeth needed long to understand. Daisy’s death had ripped her apart but she had still been functioning so there couldn’t be anything truly wrong.   
She just went on with her life.   
Then the night of Phryne’s departure she finally realized that it was not so much the fact of her best friend leaving that made her feel so awful deep down - their friendship had endured so much that a bit of distance could hardly do something- but it was her being almost jealous because she felt as if she could never allow herself this kind of freedom.

But she was Elizabeth Macmillan and Elizabeth Macmillan does not fuck around with anybody’s nonsense. Not even her own.  
So she enrolled into a small research program at the University of Sydney, packed her bags and left Melbourne - for the winter term- she wasn’t senseless enough to quit a position she had spent years working towards.

And now she was here sitting in what soon after her arrival became her favorite teashop. It was located right at the corner of the street she lived in, they had Australia’s best shortbread, almost as good as the one she knew from Scotland, nice jazz music playing in the background and the owner was an absolute dream to look at, sadly a very happily newly-wed dream. Well you can’t have everything, can you?

Writing a response to Phryne’s letter had taken longer than Mac had estimated so instead of going to the museum, what had been her original plan, she decided to just stay in the café for this afternoon, finish her novel and order another slice of apple pie.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your wonderful comments on chapter one!!! <3 I am quite sorry that it took me so long, but this story and the general „atmosphere“ I am trying to represent/recreate with it is very special to me and I don’t want to rush <3 Again thanks so much for your support!

Even though there were only three more people in the cabin, the air was hot and sticky. Mac couldn’t wait to finally get out of this train but it would still take a few hours until then, which would be only half as bad if she had remembered to take the books she had carefully chosen for the trip home with her, instead of leaving them in her hotel room. She could still remember the exact place she had put them, but this realisation came, she quickly glanced onto her pocket watch, precisely four hours too late. 

Another four hours later she took her first step back onto familiar ground and one hour after that she finally walked down „her“ street. The magnolia trees down the road mixed with city-smell filled the air with that particular scent Mac had began to cherish so much. 

Satisfied, she casted one last glance down the road before entering the house. At the same time her neighbours cat had noticed her, jumped out of the bushes right towards her, and if there was one thing Elizabeth Macmillan could not be kept from, not under any circumstances, it was cats.  
So *of course* she had to stop her task of bringing in her luggage and bend down to pet that beautiful Siamese.  
From the cat‘s perspective, she was positively absolutely appertained to an extensive amount of attention right this instant, since her second-favourite human had neglected this job of hers for so long.   
As a result, even after what felt like a quarter of an hour, Mac was still standing - or to be exact halfway standing halfway bending down- in front of the ajar door, but after another five minutes, when she felt like either her back or her knees were going to give up soon, she finally grabbed her suitcases and stepped in.  
She closed the door behind her when she heard someone, most likely a female someone provided that during her absence Melbourne‘s men did not suddenly develop a new fashion preference, running down the stairs and before she could react she was greeted by a complete stranger shrieking and bumping right into her luggage.  
To Mac‘s wonder the unfamiliar woman had composed herself way sooner than she did and flooded her with excuses.  
And Mac could only watch her. It was the kind of woman who could take up a room which merely her presence.  
She was easily ten years old than Mac, still her fashion taste would make even Phryne jealous.

 

„And you are just moving in?“  
„Pardon?“, now she started asking questions. Damn it! Fokus.  
„Well I don’t know about you, but I personally go grocery shopping with two suitcases rather -er rarely.“  
The unfamiliar woman raised an eyebrow.  
„I’ve been on vacation.“   
„Ah yes, that makes sense. So are you living here?“   
She picked up a pen Mac must have lost without noticing and handed it over.  
„I am. Are you?“ Mac returned a smile.   
„Sure! How do you think I got in here?“, she laughed, „It’s a pity I have never seen you around before.”  
The woman winked and Mac found herself in the rare situation, in which she did not have a response available.   
But how should she have been prepared for this situation when she was only unsuspectingly trying to get back into her apartment as quickly as possible.  
„I completely forget to introduce myself, I am sorry.“, she put out her hand, „Irene Todd. Neighbor, as it seems.“ Her smile widened.  
„Elizabeth Macmillan. Doctor.“  
„Nice to meet you, Doctor Macmillan.“, she quickly glanced at her watch, „Goodness, I am going to be so late, I am sorry I need to go.“, when already halfway out the door she turned around, „Also please, allow me to have tea with you soon, I need to make up for that.“ She gestured to what was still left of the chaos on the floor before closing the front door behind her.

 

Her apartment looked just like it did when she left, there was a bit of dust here and there which Mac will have to take care of and she should better refresh her stores soon, too.  
But it felt like home, except all of that and even after all this time it still felt like home.  
More than it had in those tiring months before.  
She made herself a cup of tea, took her hair down and sprawled onto her favourite armchair.  
„Home“, Mac reckoned, was a good feeling.


End file.
